His Contract Fiancée

“It’s official. No one in this house loves me,” I announced to the entire apartment, loud enough for the neighbors to file a noise complaint.

A chorus answered from different rooms. “How?” “What now?” “Is she dying?

I dramatically threw an arm over my face. “I’m still jobless. How is everyone calm about this? I can’t go back to that cursed part-time nightmare. I swear the boss is a devil, a real-world devil .”

From the far end of the hallway, Liam, resident pessimist with the emotional range of a teaspoon, called back, “Trust me, princess, none of us want you wandering around here every day either. I’m literally using every connection I have to save us.”

“Wow. Deeply touched,” I muttered, sinking into the couch. “Honestly, if anyone wants to buy my degree off eBay, I’ll ship it with free wrapping.”

Steve’s voice chimed in, predictably smug. “And this, children, is why you major in something use—”

“Shut up, Steve!” all three of us yelled at once, and I ended that with an

Our synchronized misery sent me into a laugh. Steve loved rubbing his stable job in our faces. Meanwhile, the rest of us were held together by student debt, caffeine, and the audacity to dream.

“How are you even home? I thought the Emergency unit in your hospital is short-staffed,” I called out, still giggling. I could already predict his answer.

“I shouldn’t have to work myself into the grave before my next shift,” he said. “I’ve been gone for days, and you don’t miss me? Shameful.”

“Honestly, the hospital can keep you,” came a groggy mumble behind me.

I turned to see Danielle emerging from her room like a disgruntled blanket-creature, wrapped so tightly she could’ve passed as a human burrito. She flopped onto the couch beside me with an exhale that communicated centuries of suffering. You would think we graduated from college a decade ago, it's just two years!

“Sleep tight, doctor,” I teased. “Don’t invade jobless people’s dreams.”

“You’re the only one who cares about me, Nelly,” Steve sighed dramatically.

“Tragic,” I said, patting the air.

Danielle shoved her legs across the couch. “So? How’s the job? and the job hunt?”

“The part-time gig?” I grimaced. “My boss is a walking red flag with legs. And I applied to "don’t judge me" everything last night. Even the ones that looked fake. The ones that said stuff like ‘salary: enough to make you question your morals.’”

She blinked. “Sorry, I am in no position to help as well, you know my manager is sort of a dick."

"I know"

"So you applied to the housekeeper one?”

“You saw that?” I asked.

“Yes"

"Everything.”

“Not everything but the one offering 120k,” she said. “Who pays that much for dusting?”

“No idea,” I said. “But at those prices, I’ll dust ceilings, floors, emotional baggage, whatever.”

“Pretty sure you’ll be hiding bodies,” Danielle sang.

“Honestly, could do it for a year,” Liam said, appearing in the doorway. “Save cash. Move to Peru. Become mysterious.”

“Wow,” I said. “You two are why Steve thinks he’s a genius.”

“120k puts you in, what, top thirty percent?” Danielle mused.

“Top twenty,” I corrected automatically.

Liam ruffled his hair. “Should I apply?”

“Please don’t,” Danielle said. “It takes you three business days to clean your room.”

“And you,” Liam pointed at me, “chief applier of the household, zero experience.”

“I clean up after all of you,” I snapped. “That’s professional-level trauma.”

I held out a hand. “Phone. It should be charged.”

Liam tugged the charger cord without actually sitting up. The remote fell to the floor. I groaned, stood, grabbed my phone

—and froze.

Because staring at me was a notification titled Congratulations.

My pulse kicked. Hard.

I tapped my email app with trembling fingers. It had been months, actual geological eras, since an employer wanted to see me. So this had better not be a prank from a bored teenager.

I read the email. Blinked. Re-read it.

Then I started reading it aloud because surely I was hallucinating.

An interview.For the housekeeper job.Tomorrow.

Subject: Congratulations on Your Interview Opportunity

Dear Nelly Newton, I hope this message finds you well! I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected for an interview for the housekeeping position at Cooper Oak Estate. Your application stood out to us, and we are excited to explore your qualifications further. The interview will take place on October 28, 2024, at 10 a.m. It will be held at Cooper Oak Estate, and your pass and directions are attached below. During this meeting, we'll discuss your experience and assess your enthusiasm and readiness to join our team. We aim to make a decision on the same day, so please come prepared to showcase your skills and passion for this role. If you have any questions or need assistance before the interview, feel free to reach out. We look forward to meeting you and wish you the best of luck!

Warm regards,

Danielle sat straight up. “The 120k one?!”

“Yeah… that one.” I swallowed. “But isn’t it a scam?”

“The email sounded legit,” Liam said, finally sitting upright. “Except the part about deciding the same day. That’s… bold.”

“Tomorrow is the 28th,” Danielle said. “Right?”

“It—” I checked the calendar. “Oh my god. It is tomorrow.”

My brain short-circuited. “Should I go?!”

“Yes, obviously,” Liam said. “Worst case, we track your location and call every fifteen minutes l.”

Danielle squinted. “Still feels too good to be true.”

“I live with pessimists,” Liam groaned. “Just go. See what happens.”

Something in me cracked open, relief, disbelief, joy, whatever it was, it made me scream. Danielle screamed with me. Suddenly, we were spinning in circles like toddlers who’d discovered sugar.

“There is an overworked doctor in the house!” Steve yelled.

We ignored him.

I tugged Danielle toward my room, heart pounding in a way that felt like a preview of fate, or a terrible life decision.

“Let’s find you the most professional housekeeping outfit in existence!” Danielle cried, dragging me toward my closet.

And just like that, tomorrow suddenly felt like the beginning of something massive.

Or a very expensive kidnapping. And God knows I have nobody to pay the ransom.

Nelly

The gate was the kind that didn’t just say rich people live here; it said rich people live here, and they don’t want you touching their stuff.A towering sheet of brushed aluminum stretched in front of me, sleek enough to double as a mirror and intimidating enough to make me reconsider every life choice that led to this moment.

A tiny plaque on the stone pillar read: Aiden’s Residence.

Just Aiden.No last name.Because why bother with a surname when you clearly own half this much? I wonder what he looks like.

Beyond the gate, a long, perfectly trimmed road wound into a tunnel of tall trees… and then nothing. No house. No security booth. Not even a mailbox. This was the kind of silence that made you feel like the forest was judging you.

My phone buzzed. Salvage.

“Hey,” I answered.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked through what might’ve been the world’s worst recept